


cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you

by eneiryu



Series: in the shadow of the valley but don't need light to see [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And The Things That We Can't, In Our Bedroom After The War, M/M, The Things We Leave Behind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eneiryu/pseuds/eneiryu
Summary: Their first night of freedom, Liam pins Theo to the bed in their rat-trap motel room and takes his time.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Series: in the shadow of the valley but don't need light to see [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682011
Comments: 32
Kudos: 172





	cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is about seven sentences and some general (but very important!) themes away from being a PWP. Uh. Thanks, quarantine?

Theo gets quieter and quieter the further away they get from Beacon Hills.

It doesn’t register with Liam at first, because he knows how to exist in Theo’s silences. Most of the time Theo’s silences are _for_ him, after all; Theo carving out a space in his own ribs and his own lungs for Liam to exist in instead, all the times that Liam has been _too much_ for his own body, snarling and furious and with the shift threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. 

But this isn’t _that_. This is the quiet Theo used to get for _himself_ , quiet movements and quiet breathing, like if he just moved quietly enough he could quiet his sister’s heart beating in his chest, too; like if he could just move quietly enough, the Surgeon or the Pathologist or the Geneticist would forget he was there. 

Liam _hates_ this kind of quiet.

“Exit here,” he orders, at the next exit he sees. Theo gives him a strange look, but does it without question; Liam grits his teeth, and cuts his gums open on his fangs as he does it.

They wind up in the middle of a little nothing town, the strip malls half-empty and grimy; the handful of other cars they pass old, and rusting. Theo wants to ask, but he _doesn’t_ ; he keeps biting the question back. He keeps being quiet, quiet, quiet. 

Liam keeps his jaw clamped shut, and says nothing.

Or he says nothing until they pass what he’d been looking for, and then he snaps, “There. Turn there.” He points out the windshield to the side of the road.

Theo leans forward just enough that he can better see the sign perched crookedly on its long, metal pole, high, _high_ above the rundown building behind it; high enough to do its ineffectual best to attract visitors from the highway. “You have to be kidding me,” Theo says incredulously, and glances over at him.

Liam just stares steadily back. “ _Turn_.”

The motel is old, all peeling paint and weatherbeaten wood. Even once he stops his truck Theo doesn’t move to get out, just stays staring out the windshield at it, confusion and judgement all over his face. Liam ignores him, and opens his door.

“Liam!” Theo calls, irritated, but Liam doesn’t stop, just keeps heading for the door set underneath a faded _OFFICE_ sign. Still, he hears it when Theo gives an aggrieved sigh and follows him out of the truck; when Theo slams his own door shut, and starts to jog after him.

The old man inside glances up from his disinterested slump, eyes focused somewhere below the counter— _television_ , Liam thinks; he can hear the irritating crackle of the poor-quality picture—and squints at them. “Can I help you boys?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, chin tipping up. “We need a room.”

The old man’s eyebrows shoot up. “Do you, now?” He replies. “And where are your parents?”

“Not here,” Liam answers, the smile on his face really more of a smirk and threatening to become a snarl, but the old man just snorts.

“No parents, no room. You have to be eighteen to rent a room,” he says, and turns away, back to his crackling TV: _dismissed_.

But.

“Well, what do you know,” Liam replies, and holds up a folded set of twenties. “We are eighteen.”

“Alright, Liam, what the fuck?” Theo demands a few minutes later as he’s chasing Liam out of the office, a room key clutched tight in one of Liam’s palms.

But Liam just says, “You should get the bags out of the truck,” and continues heading for the stairs up to the second floor.

He stops when Theo grabs his arm, and yanks him around and to a stop. “Liam!”

Liam just looks back at him, letting ice blue bleed into his irises until he can feel that they’re entirely flared. “Get the bags out of the truck, Theo,” Liam orders.

Theo stares at him, open-mouthed, for a few seconds—his own eyes starting to fleck with gold—and then he bites off a harsh sound, and spins on his heel for his truck. Liam keeps making his way up to the room.

It’s exactly as rundown and dreary as the rest of the motel; if Liam wasn’t a werewolf, he might actually be worried about _catching_ something from the dingy sheets, and threadbare towels. And Theo must be thinking the same thing, because he steps into the room—the door left cracked for him—and makes a disgusted sound.

“I would rather,” he announces lowly as he kicks the door shut behind himself, and drops their bags on the floor, “sleep outside in the _dirt_.”

“Fine,” Liam agrees, “if you’re alright getting _arrested_ outside in the dirt, too.”

Theo blinks at him. “What?”

Liam just smirks. “Take off your shirt.”

Now Theo _gapes_. “ _What?_ ”

“You heard me,” Liam says, and lets the shift rise just enough that it comes out riding the edge of a low rumble; Theo sucks in a sharp breath, and his pupils blow wide. Liam feels _satisfaction_ rise in his chest, swift and greedy and bringing the rest of the shift with it. “ _Now_ , Theo,” he orders, and through a mouthful of fangs.

Theo hesitates a half-second longer, his eyes fixed wide-eyed and stunned on Liam’s face, and then he reaches for his hem.

Liam’s _there_ by the time he finishes pulling it over his head, his hands—his _clawed_ hands—rising to yank Theo’s face down for a kiss. Theo makes a soft, startled sound and stumbles some in surprise, and Liam thinks _yes_ , thinks _again_ , and tightens his fingers in Theo’s hair until Theo gasps and his breath shakes shuddering loose of his chest, loud in the otherwise silent room. 

He also cuts his tongue open on Liam’s fangs. It heals fast, heals almost instantly, but Liam still _snarls_ , and drags him down harder, twists him sideways until Theo staggers and has to either yank away to steady himself or _fall_. 

Theo falls, and lands blinking up at Liam on the bed. 

Liam looks at him for a long, dragging second, and then he pulls his own shirt over his head.

Theo doesn’t fight it, when Liam climbs onto the bed and onto _him_ , settling his hips down over Theo’s half-hard cock and _grinding_. He jolts, then, and goes to grab Liam’s hips, but Liam catches his hands, and yanks them back up over his head, pinning them there with his own weight. 

He also snaps his teeth in warning, his flared eyes—ice blue, and burning—reflecting in Theo’s own. 

Theo exhales shakily, and goes boneless underneath him.

“Good,” Liam tells him, and leans back. 

The muscles of Theo’s stomach flutter as the movement drives Liam’s weight against his cock, and Theo bites his lips to smother a moan, his eyelids fluttering shut. But they snap right back open when Liam grabs his face. 

“Not good,” Liam tells him, and circles his index finger up, and over, until he can drag it down Theo’s mouth; until he can drag Theo’s lip out from between his teeth. 

Theo stares up at him, his breath panting against Liam’s finger, and after another second of staring down at him, Liam can’t help it; he slides his finger forward instead, into Theo’s mouth, and then almost as quickly leans down to kiss him, his now-wet hand once more grabbing Theo’s jaw, and coaxing it open.

This time when Theo moans, it’s loud, and unmuffled, Liam raising his own lips when he feels it rise in Theo’s chest so that there’s nothing to trap it, nothing to swallow it; nothing to keep it _quiet_.

“Liam,” Theo gasps, breathy, and Liam grins, and leans back.

Getting them out of their shoes and jeans is complicated by the fact that the second Theo starts to lower his arms to help, Liam _snarls_ at him. Theo freezes, his breath hitching in his chest, and puts them back; his hips thrust up into empty air as he does it, and Liam smiles, slow and syrupy. 

Liam sheds the last of his own clothes impatiently, and then leans over Theo’s still-prone—still _stretched out_ , Theo turning his palms face-down to clutch at the threadbare bedspread—body to start working on his. Theo’s eyes are closed and for a split-second Liam considers ordering him to open them, but. But Theo keeps giving these helpless, rasping little _gasps_ , his head arched back and his throat working, and Liam doesn’t.

Instead he leans forward, and puts his tongue to Theo’s stomach as he gets Theo’s jeans open, and unzipped.

Theo nearly pulls the bedspread out from underneath the mattress when he jackknifes upward, his fingers still tangled in it. Liam gives up on Theo’s jeans for a moment and pins his hips back down, his tongue stroking and his lips sucking and his teeth _biting_ at the skin beneath his mouth. “Liam,” Theo cries out, one of his heels dragging up Liam’s back and his hips grinding his hard cock against Liam’s sternum. “Jesus christ, _Liam_.”

“That’s it,” Liam murmurs to him. “Just like that, Theo,” he says, and _bites_ the exposed curve of one of his hipbones.

His own impatience—his own _arousal_ , burning low and hot at the base of his spine—catches up with him then, and he rears back, and finishes working Theo’s shoes off his feet and his jeans off his hips. He can see the way that Theo keeps wanting to drop his hands—the muscles of his raised arms keep flexing, and releasing—but Theo keeps them where they are, where Liam put them; up above his head and tangled in the bedspread.

But: “Liam,” he gasps out, his eyes glazed and his mouth wet. “Liam, _please_.”

And so Liam grins, and leans down, and takes Theo in his mouth. 

He has to immediately pin Theo’s hips to the bed as Theo lets out a long, drawn-out moan and arcs upwards, his back bowing. His heels dig into the mattress on either side of Liam’s shoulders, scraping along the bedspread as his hips keep giving these helpless, useless little jerks. Liam smiles around him, and slides down even deeper, _deeper_ , until his lips touch the hand that he’d braced at the bottom of Theo’s cock to help hold him steady.

Theo cries out.

But even still, Liam pulls off of him in the next second. “Put them back,” he orders lowly. 

Theo stares at him from underneath hooded eyes for a long, few, uncomprehending seconds, and then his eyes widen in realization, and he slowly raises his arms back from where they’d slapped down by his sides up, up above his head again. Liam waits until Theo’s fingers are once more tangled within the bedspread, and then he smiles, slow and satisfied.

“Good,” he tells him, and leans back down.

Theo doesn’t last long, after that. Liam doesn’t want him to, honestly, ruthless in the way that he seals his lips _tight_ around Theo’s cock, and flattens his tongue _hard_ against the underside, aware as he is of every frantic, stymied twitch of Theo’s hips beneath his pinning hands. _That’s it,_ he thinks, as the muscles of Theo’s stomach winch tighter, and tighter. _That’s it, Theo. C’mon_.

When Theo comes, he cries out long, and loud, the sound of it finally trailing off into a broken, shaky moan. 

Liam leans back, after, and wipes his mouth with the back of one satisfied hand. Below him, Theo is a boneless mess, his softening cock still flushed and the skin of his stomach dotted with little marks from Liam’s mouth, his eyes glazed, and unfocused. His arms are still stretched out above his head, his fingers trembling against the folds of the bedspread, little tuffs of it pulled up and creased. Liam runs his hands across Theo’s splayed open thighs, pleased, and then he pushes himself up, and off the bed, and goes looking for their bags.

Theo’s eyes are a little clearer when Liam knees his way back onto the bed. They’re clear enough, in fact, that he immediately spots the little bottle in Liam’s right hand, and his breath hitches in his chest. Liam grins, and leans down to kiss him.

“Turn over,” he murmurs against Theo’s lips, and bites Theo’s shoulder when Theo’s hitched breath shudders loose of his chest instead.

Liam leans back once Theo has done as he’d instructed, and is laying flat on his stomach. His hands are already crooked by his head, his fingers clenched in the bedspread once more, but Liam still layers his own palms over Theo’s wrists as he swings a leg back over Theo’s hips, and settles his weight down. It drives Theo’s wrists _hard_ against the bed, and Theo turns his face against the mattress and _moans_ , his teeth _biting_ at the bedspread.

Liam hisses, and drops down to put his own teeth in the back of Theo’s neck. “Theo,” he rumbles, a half-growled warning, and Theo immediately makes a small sound and opens his jaw, the bedspread falling from between his teeth. 

“Liam, I-I don’t,” he stammers, but Liam just noses at the back of his ear.

“Yeah, you do,” Liam disagrees gently. “You do,” he insists, and trails the tip of his nose and then his lips up the curve of Theo’s ear before taking it between his teeth, and _biting_. 

Theo’s cry is loud, and unmuffled.

“Good,” Liam tells him. “Good, Theo.”

There are tiny, minute tremors running through Theo’s body. Liam spends a half-minute or so just sitting astride Theo’s back and watching them, his fingers trailing delicate, nonsense patterns around Theo’s skin. But Theo keeps giving these soft, helpless _whimpers_ , and finally Liam can’t help it; he reaches forward, and snags the little bottle that he’d dropped next to Theo’s ribs.

The first touch of his cool, wet fingers to Theo’s entrance has him jolting. But then Theo moans—his face turned down, and his forehead buried in the bedspread, though he keeps his mouth free—and presses his hips further into the mattress, stilling them for Liam’s hand. “That’s it, Theo,” Liam can’t help but murmur, running his other hand lightly up, and then down Theo’s spine. “That’s it.”

Theo tenses as Liam slides his first finger inside but almost immediately relaxes, his breath shuddering loose of his chest and his head turning to the other side as he slumps, and spreads his legs even further. Liam makes an appreciative noise and braces his free hand in the small of Theo’s back, holding him steady as he works him, in and out, until he can feel Theo relax enough that he pulls his finger out—ignoring Theo’s bitten-off protest—and adds another.

“Liam,” Theo gasps. “Liam, _ah_.”

Liam keeps up working him until Theo’s ready for a third finger, and then he stops. He stops, and slides both of his fingers out, and doesn’t replace them. Theo makes a questioning sound, and starts to look over his shoulder, and then he sucks in a sharp, startled breath and drops right back flat with a broken cry. 

Liam pauses to listen to it, and then he grins, and presses his mouth harder against Theo’s entrance.

The chemical taste of the lube is near-overpowering, but gone fast, and worth it for the way that Theo shudders, and cries out, and tenses all over as Liam licks at him. For a moment Liam considers pinning his hips back down but then doesn’t, letting Theo’s hips rock up to meet him as he continues to mouth at Theo’s sensitive rim, occasionally turning his head to _bite_ at the curve of Theo’s ass before putting his mouth right back.

By the time that Theo is gasping, “Liam, Liam, _please_ ,” he’s relaxed enough that Liam’s three slicked fingers slide right inside him without issue. Liam groans, his own banked, forcibly ignored arousal flaring to harsh, all-consuming light, and takes his hand away only to replace it a split-second later with his cock, slick and steadied by the hand he wraps around himself as he positions himself at Theo’s entrance.

Theo’s breath punches loose of his lungs as Liam starts to press slowly but relentlessly inside. He sucks in an equally shaky breath the next second, his back—Liam leaning down to press his chest to Theo’s slick skin—expanding with it, before it stutters right back out as Liam bottoms out. Pausing, Liam brings his hands up to find Theo’s shoulders, and then skates them along Theo’s arms until he finds Theo’s fingers, still white-knuckled around the bedspread. Theo immediately releases his hold, and lets Liam slide his fingers in-between Theo’s own instead.

“That’s it, Theo,” Liam tells him, and clenches his fingers _hard_ around Theo’s. “That’s it, c’mon.”

And then he starts to move.

Sprawled out and pinning Theo down like this, chest to thigh, Liam can’t get the leverage he needs to pull that far out before slamming back inside. But he doesn’t _need_ to, at least not yet; Theo cries out, once and then again, his hips rocking up to meet Liam’s as best they can and his thighs quivering underneath Liam’s own. Liam grins fiercely against the shell of his ear and moves faster, pins Theo’s hips down harder; moans himself when Theo tightens around him.

But eventually he can’t help it; he rears up, his fingers slipping loose of Theo’s, until he can pin Theo down, one hand on the back of his neck, one hand on his right wrist. Theo gasps out a sharp sound as the change of position means that Liam can go _deep_ and Liam _does_ , pressing harder against Theo’s neck and wrist to get the leverage he needs to pull out farther, and slam back in harder. 

“Liam, Liam,” Theo starts to chant, breathy and seemingly helpless, and that’s how Liam knows he’s getting close. Gritting his teeth—his _shifted_ teeth, he can feel his mouthful of fangs, to go along with his flared eyes—he shifts his hands down until he can grab Theo’s hips, and _pull_ him up onto his knees, until Liam can reach down and get a hand around his cock. 

Theo cries out and drops back down onto his elbows from the palms he’d braced himself on when Liam had pulled him up, but he turns his face so that his mouth is free as he pants, and moans, and jerks his hips as best he can in Liam’s hold. 

When he comes, he tightens around Liam’s cock like a _vice_ , and Liam has to consciously smother the _roar_ he wants to give into a brutal, fanged-mouth _snarl_.

He fucks Theo through his orgasm, and it isn’t long—Theo’s muscles still fluttering around him—before he tips over the edge of his own. He collapses over the top of Theo as he does, moaning and burying his face in Theo’s neck, one hand slamming down onto the mattress by Theo’s head and the other wrapping tight, _tight_ around Theo’s waist as he holds Theo’s hips flush to his own. 

Finally the cresting wave of pleasure recedes enough that he can release Theo’s hips—his fingers feeling stiff, and reluctant—and start to slowly, slowly straighten up. Theo moans as he does, shaky and overstimulated, and Liam makes a soothing noise and strokes a hand down his side as he carefully pulls out, and sits back on his heels. 

Theo collapses down the next second, rolling only at the last second onto his back to avoid the wet spot.

He stares up at Liam after, eyes hooded and mouth open, and soft, and wet. Liam can’t resist; he crawls forward and stretches himself out until he can slot himself in-between Theo’s spread knees, blanket Theo with his own body as he kisses him. Theo shudders as their softening cocks brush, but he wraps his arms around Liam’s shoulders, and kisses him back.

Eventually the scratching feeling in his chest subsides, some, and Liam can slide his mouth away, skating it across Theo’s cheek until he can bury it, and his face, against Theo’s neck; just press it there, breathing. Theo doesn’t protest, though Liam must be half-smothering him, just turns his cheek against Liam’s and breathes, too; Liam can feel it skating across the sensitive skin of his ear, his neck. He shivers.

“So,” Theo says, after a long, few, syrupy minutes have dragged themselves by. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

 _Why, you complaining?_ Liam thinks about snarking, but.

But instead he just rises up, his elbows bracketing Theo’s head, and looks down at Theo as Theo looks up at him. “I wanted to,” he finally says. “I wanted to, and there was no one around to tell me that I couldn’t,” no Dread Doctors, and no McCall pack, and _no one_ , “and so I did.”

Theo stares at him, his eyes widening slightly and his mouth dropping softly open. 

And Liam—Liam wants to kiss him again, and so he leans down, and he does that, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> All feed back loved! If you liked, please consider a comment or a [reblog](https://eneiryu.tumblr.com/post/613966390645424128/cracked-the-hinges-of-the-cage-and-waited-for-you)!


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